I Was Lost in France
by King in Yellow
Summary: How was my vacation? Not funny you should ask. Not funny at all. Maybe some year, but not yet. Here is exactly what happened, truthiest thing I've ever written – other than putting Shego and Kim in the roles of my wife and I. Maybe I should have used Things Could Always Get Worse by the Therapy Sister for the title of this one. Sans kids, romantic vacation suddenly heads south. BEU


Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Many of my stories are reality based. My experience has been modified to fit the lives of Ron, Kim, Bonnie, and Shego. This happened less than two weeks ago. This one is gospel truth, only my name and my wife's are changed. I'm Kim.

Title is song by Bonnie Tyler.

**I Was Lost in France**

Shego yawned, "I'm sleeping in this morning. Why don't you go to Sainte-Chapelle without me?"

"Okay, I'll be fast, just need to replace the pictures."

"And get them off your phone this time. I ought to sue the place that ruined your old phone."

"And be back...?"

"Between twelve-thirty and one, and then we head for the Cimetière Père Lachaise."

Fifteen minutes later Kim climbed from the bowels of the Cité station to the Ile de la Cité and made bee-line for the high gothic chapel built to house outrageously expensive fake relics purchased by Saint Louis. It didn't matter if the relics were fake, the chapel was spectacular. She finished quickly and headed to Notre Dame, hoping to replace pictures at the crypte archéologique, also covered by the Museum Card. The crypt was off-limits, behind the construction fence for repairs on the cathedral. She saw bits of the repair over the top of the fence, and stumbled on the Deportation Martyrs Memorial. _"Need to tell Shego I found this."_ Shego's relatives in Eastern Europe had died in the death camps, but the lawyer felt a kinship to the Jews who had died from other countries. Kim had time before she needed to go back, and sat in the memorial park and looked at the guide book. The Conciergerie was also on the Museum Card, and back by Sainte-Chapelle. Centuries of remodeling had left none of the grander of the former palace, converted to a government building after the kings moved out, and converted into a prison during the Revolution. _"At least I didn't have to pay extra for this."_ she thought as she finished.

At the Saint-Michel subway stop she was approached by someone making a charity appeal. Even as she handed a ten-Euro note she realized, _"This is a scam... Ah well, better to give charity to the undeserving than not give charity to the deserving."_ She hoped she was wrong.

Back at the hotel. Kim feared Shego would make fun of her for being scammed, but believed in telling the truth. "I, uh, think the gypsies got me with a fake charity. Collecting money for the deaf."

"How much they take you for? One Euro? Two?"

"I'm not sure it was fake! I gave, um, ten."

"I can't believe how naive you still are. How could you fall for something like that?"

The lecture went on five minutes, and Kim realized it would go on for the rest of the trip, and maybe the next year. "How about you drop it for now and we head to Père Lachaise?"

"Okay, let me grab a sandwich at the shop across from the Cadet station."

As they rode from the Cadet station to Opéra, where they'd make connections for the line for the cemetery they listed some of the graves they hoped to see, and the wall where Communards were executed in 1871. At Opéra Shego reached into her bag, and couldn't find her wallet. She began frantically digging. "My wallet's gone!"

"You left it at the sandwich shop."

"I didn't."

"We'd better go check."

Upset, Shego headed for the wrong platform.

Kim, at the right platform, got a text, "Where are you?"

"Waiting subway to Cadet."

"I'm... Wrong track!"

Kim took the subway back. She desperately hoped Shego had left the wallet on the counter. The sandwich shop remembered Shego. She had not left her wallet.

"Wallet not here," texted Kim.

On the subway Shego's stomach sank. Her pocket had been picked. Her driver's license, passport, credit cards, and cash were gone.

Nevertheless, at the sandwich shop she interrogated the staff. Her wallet still wasn't there.

As they trudged to the police station to file a report Shego muttered, "God is paying me back for making fun of you because you gave to a fake charity."

Kim was of the opinion that God didn't work that way, and worried about their ability to leave Paris for Malta the next afternoon. No word of blame passed her lips, it could happen to anyone and it could have been her, but she felt some relief that Shego would not be mentioning the scam again. Kim called credit card companies to cancel cards as Shego filled out forms. Both felt the phone company was charging them an outrageous amount for oversea service, but they were going to get their money's worth.

"American Embassy tomorrow morning," they agreed.

"I got to figure out how to get money. Why didn't each of us bring different credit cards?"

"Because we weren't planning on being robbed?"

"You have most of the cash, right?"

"Yes, but not sure it's enough to get us through Malta... If you can even get an emergency passport so we can go."

Shego made calls, trying to arrange new credit cards – that would have to be delivered to the Malta hotel, assuming they could make it to Malta.

Dinner was on the cheap, as most meals would be until a supply of funds was discovered.

As they picked up a few items at a bodega near the hotel Kim noticed something odd. "Shego?"

"Yes."

"That sandwich you chose has pork in it."

"I'm telling God I'm angry about him letting this happen to me."

–The End–


End file.
